


Midnight Snacks

by VoidofRoses



Series: Recovery [2]
Category: Legend of the Three Caballeros (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 03:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15833100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidofRoses/pseuds/VoidofRoses
Summary: Unable to sleep after having Felldrake removed from his body, Donald wanders the halls of New Quackmore Ins. and comes across Panchito making breakfast.





	Midnight Snacks

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of “Last One Standing”, a week after Donald recovers.

Staring at the duck in the mirror, Donald expected his reflection to come to life, to mock and jeer him and twist his body like a puppet on strings while he watched on, expected his eyes to glow purple and radiate a power that wasn’t his.

Nothing happened.

His fingers clenched the bathroom sink, head dropping and shoulders hunching. His stomach churned with relief, heart clenching in his chest and brain addled with anxiety. It had only been a month since Panchito had expelled Felldrake from his body, a week since he woke up from his coma to find his friends smiling around him. Donald sunk to his knees, arms draped into the sink as he pressed his head against the cold china, inhaling deeply and exhaling it out shakily.

He’d spent so long with Felldrake in control that it almost felt like he didn’t own his own body.

Donald’s chest heaved and he wracked out a dry sob, fingers burying themselves deep in his feathers as he rocked himself there, kneeling on the bathroom floor of the master bedroom. He felt his stomach lurch but he managed to keep it down, reaching to wipe at his eyes before he stood, shaky on his feet and leaning against the sink heavily for support, moonlight shining through the bathroom window as he smacked the side of the sink.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself, voice raspy and fingers brushing back his feathery hair. He felt so stupid, but at the same time he was relieved, and grateful. Donald ran the tap and splashed some cold water on himself, turning around and heading back into the bedroom. It was so quiet, alone with his own thoughts, not having to share a bed with two others. The cabana had only been small enough for one room, and once he’d gotten over his squeamishness, he’d had no problem sharing the space.

Honestly he should’ve been grateful that he’d only hurt Daisy while Felldrake had been in control of his body.

Staring at the bed, Donald instead walked around it and stepped out into the hallway, tugging on his long sleeved night shirt as he went. He made sure to be quiet, not wanting to disturb anyone else. He’d managed to keep the fact that he hadn’t slept in nearly two days a secret, the memories too disturbing to close his eyes for much time. Instead, he walked around the halls, trying not to jump at his own shadow. A quick glance at an old clock informed him it was 4am anyway, and Donald felt his stomach rumble, looking down at it. Okay, so Felldrake hadn’t kept his body in as good shape when it came to food as he thought. To the kitchen it was.

The old house creaked and groaned, tree limbs scratching at the window panes as he dragged his feet. The closer he got to the kitchens, the more some kind of smell nipped at his nose, Donald stopping in his tracks to sniff. Spices, that much he could be certain of, and something meaty. Stomach growling at him, he poked his head into the kitchen, letting in one long whiff of whatever it was that was cooking, before he saw who it was at the stove.

“Panchito?”

The rooster in question jerked a bit and looked up from where he was standing at the counter, staring before letting out a small chuckle. “You startled me.” Donald stood in the doorway, hand on the frame and glanced down a little guiltily at his feet, almost closing the door before Panchito’s voice stopped him. “Something on your mind, _amigo_?” He raised an eyebrow at the duck and gestured him in, hands lingering near the stove as he laughed to himself. “I’m making enough _tamal_ to feed an army.”

“Tamal?” Donald lingered near the door for a bit more, his curiosity piqued.

“ _Sí_.” Panchito didn’t turn around as Donald moved further into the kitchens, sitting down on a stool at the island in the middle a little gingerly. The smell got more intense, and he bit his beak when the other Caballero looked over his shoulder at him. “You hungry?” The growl of Donald’s stomach answered for him, a blush crossing his beak and feathers while the rooster grinned, opening the lid on the steamer.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Eh, not a whole lot.” He shrugged, taking the steaming pot off the bottom one, shaking it and taking it over to place it in front of Donald on the breadboard. “Mostly just quick things, good for energy. _Tamal_ don’t take much in the way of prep, but they’re kinda time consuming.” Using tongs, Panchito took the tamales out, setting them onto the breadboard and taking the covering off with ginger fingers. “Ta da. M’ma González’s recipe for breakfast tamals. _Chile con queso_ , refried beans, _mole_ , cream cheese, cheddar cheese, cornmeal, jalapeño, salt and pepper to taste.” He crossed his arms while Donald drooled, grinning from cheek to cheek as he handed him a fork. “Eat up.”

Not realising how hungry he was, Donald took the fork and started wolfing down the food in front of him while Panchito turned back around, taking a couple of coffee mugs from the cupboard and flicking the kettle on. Donald was about halfway through his second tamal when he paused, glancing up when a cup of tea was placed in front of him. “You’re not eating?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, leaning against the far counter with his own mug in his hand. “I’d rather watch other people eat my food.” He flashed Donald a charming smile, amused when the duck lowered his head with a full faced flush. “You haven’t been sleeping well, Donald. A full belly will help with that.”

“You…you know?”

“You don’t hide it as well as you think, _mi amigo_.” Panchito sipped at his tea as his friend hung his head in shame, still eating though wrist a bit slacker around his fork now. “And there’s plenty more where that came from, so eat.” He took hold of the tongs he’d used, snapping them at Donald playfully. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” Donald grumbled, eating nonetheless by shoving a fork full into his mouth before he prodded his utensil right back, clinking it against the metal tongs.

“I would be forced to use methods that would make even the world’s toughest wrestlers quake in their boots.” He was obviously teasing, voice lowering as he leaned over the bench to poke Donald before pulling back, propping himself up onto the other counter before retribution could be had. Donald snorted into his food, conceded defeat, and continued eating. Panchito watched him quietly, turning around to wash the dishes, mug of tea warming on the counter. “…You can talk to me you know, my friend.”

Donald paused in reaching for his third tamal, eyes glancing to the side as his shoulders slumped. “I wouldn’t know what to say,” he admitted finally, fork digging into the tender cornmeal. “I’m sorry I asked you to kill me?”

“It’s a start.” Panchito’s voice had a tone of joking to it, his arms deep in dishwashing water, but Donald could sense some sort of uncertainty in it. “But you don’t need to apologise.” He hummed, placing the steaming pot upside down on the sink. “I might have done the same thing if I was taken over by an evil ancient zombie.”

The duck winced, quickly shoving a fork full of food into his mouth to stop himself from speaking.

“But you know, Donald, I meant what I said.” He glanced to him out the corner of his eye and then looked back down into the water. “We acted foolishly. I know Zé regrets not noticing, and Xandra might not admit it but her powers failed us. Had we seen what was going on under our noses, you wouldn’t have been Felldrake’s prisoner for long.”

Felldrake’s prisoner. Like he hadn’t been taken over and forced to do things with his body against his will. Donald squeezed his eyes shut, fork dropping on the breadboard as he pressed his hand against his forehead. “Donald?” Panchito’s voice was distant, his head spinning, and then a hand was on his shoulder, squeezing it tight. “ _Donald_? _¿Estás bien?_ ”

“Sorry,” he rasped out once the world stopped tilting this way and that, finding his brow pressed against Panchito’s shoulder as the rooster closed the distance between them. “I…”

“You should go back to bed, _mi amigo_.” He had no strength to protest when Panchito practically picked him up from the stool, his friend surprisingly strong. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, he thought to himself as he leaned over his shoulder, nuzzling his beak into Panchito’s neck. “C’mon, mine’s closer.”

The kitchen door swung shut behind them as he carried Donald to his room, feeling him curl into him. In all honesty, he hadn’t been sleeping well himself since the battle, but he hid it a bit better than his white feathered friend. Panchito nudged the door open with his foot once they got there, pressing his back there and slipping in, walking over to his bed. One arm wrapped around Donald, he pulled the covers away from where they were still ruffled from his earlier rise, tucking the other Caballero in and turning to leave before a hand reached up, taking hold of his.

“Stay?”

He looked down at Donald with a bit of surprise, before he smiled and climbed onto the other side of the bed, sitting on top of the covers and twining their fingers.

“Always.”


End file.
